


No Perfection Necessary

by heeroluva



Category: Doctor Strange (2016)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Developing Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Other, Overstimulation, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-15 08:28:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11227173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: Stephen doesn't have time to think about the strangeness of the Cloak that seems to have claimed him as its owner until much later.(Or the one where Stephen soul bonds with the Cloak of Levitation.)





	No Perfection Necessary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cher/gifts).



Stephen doesn’t notice it right away. At first he’s a bit distracted fighting for his life against Kaecilius, then by the Ancient One’s death, and then by the pain and exhaustion that consume him as he tries his best to save the world. It’s not until he’s been trapped in the Dark Dimension with Dormammu for some sort of endless eternity that he begins to notice the way that the Cloak tightens around him in some imitation of an embrace at the beginning of each loop. Stephen appreciates the small comfort but thinks nothing of it beyond the face value. 

It won’t even be until weeks after Dormammu accepts Stephen’s bargain and the world is put right again, that Stephen begins to wonder about the Cloak’s actions. Each night Stephen tosses the Cloak over a chair or hangs it on a hook before falling into a restless sleep, and each night Stephen wakes from nightmares of the screeching of tires and Dormammu’s gravelly voice echoing through his brain as he shakes and shivers and tries to convince his body that the pain is not real, only remembered. 

Each night the Cloak wraps itself tightly around Stephen, and even if it’s not real, Stephen takes the offered refuge it gives and eventually manages to slip into sleep again. If he dreams again, Stephen never remembers. Each morning the Cloak is still there, wrapped around him like a security blanket, and each morning he is loath to move. Stephen is certain it’s his imagination which makes it seem as though the Cloak doesn’t want to let him go either as he informs it once again that it’ll presence is no longer necessary and it’ll just get in the way of his morning business.

Another night sees Stephen waking up sweating and shaking, but this time it’s not from remembered pain but rather it’s dreams of teasing touches and an ache between his legs that pulls him from his sleep. Stephen can’t shove his pajama pants down fast enough, his cock rising hard and hot as he wraps trembling fingers around his pulsing length the other hand dropping to cup and pull at his balls, not recalling a time when he’d ever been filled with such need. His movements are hurried and rough, containing no finesse or hint of tease as he has only one goal in mind.

So lost in his desire or perhaps just so used to its company, Stephen doesn’t scold it or try to pull away as the Cloak wraps itself around Stephen’s body in a now familiar embrace. The slick coolness of the cloth against his overheated skin is actually a relief, and Stephen wishes he could feel that across his body, but in his hurry to get to his cock, taking off his clothes hadn’t been a priority.

As though reading his mind, the cloak is suddenly sliding beneath his shirt and down into his pants. Stephen can hear the sound the cloth makes as it suddenly splits, and a moan is pulled from him as the cloaks settles against his bare skin, his whole body suddenly sensitive to every small slide of the Cloak against his form. When the Cloak wraps itself around Stephen’s hands, forcing his fingers tighter around his flesh, it’s too much, the last little push that Stephen needs to fall over the edge. With a shout Stephen muscles clench, his body trying to jackknife, but unable to move around the Cloak’s suddenly tight hold, his cock throbing as his release spills over his fingers and onto the Cloak.

When the Cloak allows Stephen’s hands to fall away, it’s suddenly there in their place, wrapping itself around his oversensitive cock, rippling around him as it milks the last of his cum from his balls. But it doesn’t stop when Stephen moans, and says, “That’s enough.” It doesn’t stop when Stephen tries to squirm, uncertain if the sensations are pleasure or pain. It doesn’t stop, instead twisting and pulling at Stephen’s peaked nipples, a part of his anatomy that he’d never paid much attention too, not realizing how much he was missing out on until this very moment. It doesn’t stop until it pushes Stephen into an impossible second orgasm less than a minute after his first one, an orgasm that seems like it will never end as the Cloak plays his body in ways Stephen hadn’t thought possible.

Stephen isn’t sure how long it lasts, his body jerking and twisting against the Cloaks grip as the pleasure steals his senses. It’s almost a disappointment when it slowly ends, the pleasure fading as his muscles loosen, and he finds himself suddenly boneless, chest heaving as though he’d just run miles. Fingers curling into the Cloak, Stephen bunches the bulk of it against his chest, somewhat surprised when it lets itself be moved. He does his best to glare at it, but is fairly certain he fails as he laid there panting and sweat soaked, having just had the most powerful orgasm of his life. Finally Stephen says, “That was entirely inappropriate.” 

The Cloak doesn’t seem contrite and instead slides to curl itself snuggly around Stephen’s frame once again, blanketing him from neck to ankle. 

Hissing as it slides across his overstimulated cock, Stephen can practically feel the Cloak’s smugness and growls, “Smug, bastard.” The Cloak does it again and Stephen suddenly blinks, brain rapidly firing as he considers possibilities he hasn’t allowed himself to consider before. The Cloak is a relic, a thing, but what if it is more? Clearly it has an awareness, having saved his life multiple times, but it also has a personality that he can’t deny. But he’d thought them the product of a powerful magic he just didn’t understand and he’s never truly considered sentience or sapience. 

“Are you—” Stephen breaks off, unsure how to voice his thought. Clearly the cloak is not alive, at least not in the sense that he defines life with a body and cells that multiple and a drive to procreate. But neither is it like the other relics that he’s seen that can be used, but take no action on their own except to show their rejection of people who are not their chosen. The Cloak is something else, something outside of the mold he knows, something he doesn’t have a definition for. However, if there is anything that he’s learned in the past year it is that there is so much that he doesn’t know. 

The Cloak seems to understand Stephen’s unasked question anyway, and it extends a small tendril that he’s never seen before. He stares at it in question as it moves towards him, slipping out of his range of vision. Feeling it brush against his ear, Stephen tenses, a sudden understanding of what it wants washing over him. Giving a small nod despites that coil of fear that sets his pulse racing, Stephen can’t help but flinch as it rapidly slides into his ear, deeper than anything should ever reach. It’s not pain per say but more like the memory of expected pain, and it’s certainly not a comfortable feeling.

The pain when it comes is sudden and unexpected, a pressure that might have caused him to shout as his body jerks and twitches as though he’d been touched by a live wire. Eyes wide open Stephen sees the gold of his magic rising above him, flowing into the Cloak and for one horrifying second, he wonders if he’s made a bad choice. But that is washed away in the next second as the pain is gone as quickly as it came and he is suddenly filled with a new awareness, the sudden all-encompassing feeling of ecstasy so powerful that it steals his breath away. 

The flood of emotions and information is overwhelming and for a time Stephen is lost in it. 

Alone, alone, alone, alonealonealonealone, wrong, wrong, wrongwrongwrong, not the one, alone, wrong, alonewrong, alone wrong, something different, DANGER, the one it had been waiting so long for, protect him, happiness, danger, protect, protect, protectprotectprotectprotectprotectprotect, endless sacrifice and it stays with its one even unbounded, happiness, happiness, happinesshappinesshappinesshappiness.

When the tendril pulls out, Stephen is almost disappointed until he realizes that he can still feel the Cloak there at the edge of his consciousness, something that he now realizes has been there for sometimes but he hadn’t known to reach for. Swallowing thickly, Stephen says, “You waited an eternity for me. Surely there were others worthy of you.” 

Stephen’s statement is met with a string of images: creatures, perhaps aliens beyond Stephen’s wildest dreams, then humans, people young and old from every walk of life. Then finally there was am imagine of himself, the Cloak resting on his shoulders. _Worthy, but not you._

Once that would have made Stephen ego swell (well, maybe it still does just a little), but mostly it just makes his chest go tight as he was filled with warmth. “Don’t put me on a pedestal. I’m far from perfect.” 

_Don’t need perfection. Want you._

Well the Cloak certainly knows how to make a guy feel loved. Stephen’s eyes go wide as he looks down at the Cloak, and the happiness that he feels through the bond swells again. Well, fuck. Stephen’s head falls back as he wonders what even is his life, once famed neurosurgeon turned Sorcerer Supreme soulbonded with a floating piece of cloth that apparently has a mind of its own.

Stephen is pulled from his thoughts as the Cloak suddenly spread his legs wide and pushes his knees up to his chest. “That’s very rude, you know.” 

The image the Cloak shows Stephen has his cheeks go red as his cock hardens in record time. Clearly someone had watched way too much porn around the Cloak. In the picture he’s in much the same position as he is now, but the Cloak is wrapped around his arms, pinning them in place as his fingers clench in the material. His neck is arched, eyes and teeth clenched in pleasure, his cock hard and wet, his balls drawn up tight, clearly close to orgasm, but lacking the last needed bit of stimulation to push him over. 

But what draws Stephen’s attention most is the way his asshole is spread impossible wide around the bulk of the Cloak sliding into him and the small bulge of his stomach where the Cloak has clearly pushed an impossible amount of itself into Stephen’s body.

Stephen doesn’t beg for it, but it is a near thing. Instead he says, “Please.” Such a simple word, but packed with so much desire. 

The Cloak doesn’t hesitate and Stephen can’t even find it in himself to be annoyed at the Cloak’s smugness when it shows Stephen that he doesn’t know his body nearly as well as he thought as he’s pushed to previously unknown heights of pleasure, both physically and mentally as he’s basked in the radiance of the Cloak’s contentment.


End file.
